


Echo

by Springfieldbluebird



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Other, Post-Kanan: The Last Padawan, Pre-Gorse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:34:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springfieldbluebird/pseuds/Springfieldbluebird
Summary: An adventure of Kanan Jarrus before he met Hera.  This was supposed to be a one-shot, but took on a life of its own.  Hope you like!  :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I got to wondering why Kanan decided to move from place to place so much…then had the idea for a Jedi ghost story…all mixed up with a "wanderer" motif from an old TV show from the 70's that I used to watch as a kid. (For us older folks out there…a show called "Kung-Fu." Remember how Caine would go from town to town helping people?) We know so little about Kanan's early days I thought it would be nice to explore. So far, it's a stand-alone story that doesn't really fit into any specific timeline, except for this is later in the early days of Kanan's wanderings. He has yet to understand how his Jedi past will fit into his future. Hera, however, is right on his horizon.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought!

As Phoenix Jax drew closer to the galley, she heard loud raucous laughter. She paused a moment, listening to the sounds of the _Neon's_ crew congratulating each other on their unlikely escape.

She supposed they had reason to celebrate. Her ship had been disabled and boarded by a crew of pirates, intent on stealing not only their cargo, but their entire ship. They had been on the verge of succeeding too. Four of the pirates had rounded up her small crew in the cargo bay. The four men, Skiff, Teryk, Geln and Brak had been kept under watch by four of the pirates while two men kept Phoenix in the cockpit, trying to get her to give up the codes to the ship. When they'd been boarded, she'd locked down the ship's computers, so that only her code would unlock the helm.

Trying to get the code from her had just begun to get physical when an incredible thing had happened. The passenger they'd taken on at Th'etal, the one who had offered to help offload the shipment as partial payment for his passage, appeared to save the day. A big pirate with bad breath and heavy, gloved fists had just begun to target Phoenix's face when there was a noise, a very light thump that one of the pirates went to check out.

Next, there was a slight sound that Phoenix found she couldn't place, but she didn't have to wonder what had happened for long. The door swished open and before it even opened the entire way, a blue blaster bolt targeted the pirate holding her by her hair. He slumped to the ground and instantly Jarrus was standing there in black pants, a grey shirt and bare feet, his brown hair loose from its nerf tail. It was obvious he'd been asleep when they'd been attacked. Her lockdown should have sealed him in his room for his own safety, but here he was, standing before her with his blue-green eyes luminous in the subdued lighting (or were his good looks getting to her?). The door slid closed behind him.

"You okay, Captain?" he asked her, coming forward to take her arm gently.

She nodded, still surprised. He had the aura of one who could take care of himself and was used to danger. "How…how many of them?"

"Four more in the cargo bay. Your people are in their custody."

His words seemed to shake something loose and she leaned down to pick up the pirate's blaster rifle. She checked it, then slung it over her shoulder. "Let's go." She found herself wiping at her left eye, where a cut from the pirate's fist burned. She also had a cut lip, which she could feel swelling as they stood there.

"I've got this," Jarrus said with a grin, as though he was fully enjoying himself. "Just back me up in case I need it."

She nodded reluctantly, settling the rifle up against her shoulder and pointing toward the door. After what she'd been through, her head ached and she could feel her left eye swelling up. It probably WAS best Jarrus went first. If what he'd just done was any indication, he seemed to have a very unique skill-set.

She saw the other dead pirate propped up against the hallway wall, a blaster shot to the forehead. She walked past, following Jarrus, who stalked down the hallway, bare feet making no noise on the decking. She followed, placing her own steps carefully to avoid making noise.

They went down the hall, twisting down side passages several times before reaching the open hatch to the deck. He made a 'stay here' gesture and placed a finger to his lips, before slipping through the doorway. She had remained flattened against the bulkhead, listening intently.

But there was no noise for long moments. Then, she heard one of the pirates say, "Did you hear that?"

The other one answered. "It's nothin'."

"I'm checking it out."

There were steps, that drew closer to the doorway, but then silence. By the time Phoenix glanced around the doorway, there were only two guards left watching her crew. She ducked back just as one of the guards began calling for his missing friends. His voice become louder as he moved toward the open doorway and she chewed her bottom lip with each second that passed. _Wait…wait for it…_ When he stuck his head around the corner, she put a plasma bolt through it, and he hit the ground heavily.

"What the kriff?" she heard.

 _It's on now,_ she thought, darting through the door to see her passenger stepping up behind the pirate, who began to raise his weapon on Phoenix.

"Drop it, bitch," the pirate snarled at her.

Before she could even throw down her weapon, Jarrus was on him. They fought close quarters for a moment. This rogue was heavy, and probably had at least a hundred pounds on Jarrus, but it didn't do the thug any good. As the raider turned to use his weight to advantage, Phoenix fired, and he went down in a heap.

"That was a little close." Jarrus raised an eyebrow, glad there'd been enough of the sleemo to stop the bolt before it went through the both of them.

"Nah. I'm just that good," Phoenix quipped, but her eyes held a look of respect for their quiet passenger.

Her crew had been fine, except for Skiff who'd been hit in the head and one of the younger ones who had a dislocated shoulder.

Their next plan was to secure the pirate ship docked with them for salvage, but before they could get on board, it disengaged from the _Neon_ and hit hyperspace. She treated the two injuries in the medbay, then everyone not on duty trickled away to get some shut eye. When Phoenix had awoken, she'd realized there was a party going on in the galley.

She hovered on the edge of going in or not, when their enigmatic passenger exited the galley, turning a bottle of Skiff's best whiskey up like it was water. When he dropped the bottle, their eyes met. His eyes had shown a flicker of something, but before she could recognize it, it was gone and he'd put a hand out against the wall to steady himself.

"Cap'n Jax," he gave her a drunken salute. She'd noted his Outer Rim drawl when she took him on, but now it was touched with something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on. A slightly more refined accent? Like Inner Rim. _Hmm_ …she thought.

"Jarrus," she replied, a touch of a grin on her features. He lazily replied with a smile in kind, then extended the bottle toward her. She took a hard pull on it, coughed at little at the burn, and wiped her lips with the back of a hand. "Today you really saved our asses. That was something…something amazing."

He shook his head, giving her an even look and a shrug. "I think you were pretty handy with that blaster rifle, yourself, Cap'n. From the crew's stories, you really know your way around one…lucky for me," he smirked then took another drink. When done, he offered her the bottle once more.

"Don't turn this around on me," she warned, raising a finger, then taking another drink. "This is about you. What I want to know is…do you need a job?"

His eyes widened just a little, breaking his mask of cool so quickly she almost missed it. Then it was smoothly back in place as he chuckled to himself.

She handed the bottle back and went on. "We could really use someone like you. Maybe you could…train my crew so that we function a little better during something like what happened today. "Outer Rim's getting a little dangerous. And…Terek, Geln and Brak…they're pretty young."

"You mean they're pretty green." He shook his head and chugged more liquor. The bottle was close to being empty now. "I find that I'm usually a bad fit for things like that. But thanks. I appreciate the offer."

She looked into his eyes, which seemed like fathomless blue-green gems. "C'mon-only for a few months. I'll drop you at any planet you wish, whenever you want. I'll pay you ten percent of what we make off each haul. A strictly business proposition."

He sighed and closed his eyes for long moments. She was sure he was going to say no, but when he opened them, he nodded. "Okay. Just for a month."

"Thank you," she smiled at him, snatching at the bottle. When she brought it down and returned it to him, she leaned in, and kissed him.

"You're welcome," he said, surprised. "So this is the 'strictly business proposition?'" He asked with a smirk.

"Sorry. I couldn't…resist," she murmured. "You know what they say: 'Fortune favors the bold.'"

He smiled as he seemed to consider the proposition for long moments, as his eyes lingered on her face. Then, he shook his head, took the bottle back from her and turned it up. "You're better off not getting involved with me. I've been down this road before and it never turns out well."

"Why would you say that?" Phoenix asked.

"Trust me, I'm just a transport wreck waiting to happen."

And with that, Jarrus handed her the bottle. He turned deliberately and began to walk down the hallway. He listed to one side, then straightened his gait until he hit the turn in the passageway.

* * *

Weeks passed on the _Neon_ and Phoenix watched things settled into a routine. Kanan fit in with the crew well; he was no stranger to hard work and he had a lot of skills that made him valuable to a small crew like hers. He knew how to run the cargo loaders; he was a pretty good engine mechanic, and he had enough first aid skills to have been a valuable medic at any medcenter in the Inner or Outer Rim. Two weeks ago, Teryk, the youngest member of the crew, had been caught between the wall and a falling stack of cargo. His arm had been cut on the metal edge of the shipping container that fell on him. Jarrus had not only gotten the kid out from under the heavy metal containers but stopped the heavy bleeding and got him to the medbay before Phoenix could make it down to them. When she found them, Skiff was closing the wound with a cauterizer while Jarrus looked on.

She'd found him in the cockpit one night, watching the starlines fly by the ship during a long, complicated series of jumps to Chen'na. She'd gone to bed early, then later made her way back up to the helm to check their progress. Their astromech, Y9, was a good little droid, but sometimes unreliable, so she wanted to double check the calculations on their next jump.

She almost didn't notice him until she was fully in the cockpit. He was standing to one side, and so still that she wondered for a crazy second if he was actually awake or just sleepwalking.

"Hey—" she said, cut off by a little squeak as he moved faster than she could discern. He grabbed her arm, and held her, his eyes roving over her features as if trying to figure out who she was. "Hey…hey it's me."

His features softened with the recognition. "Sorry," he murmured, relaxing his grip on her. "I startle easily sometimes," he said apologetically, letting her arm go.

Phoenix had employed her share of war veterans over the years and had seen the same symptoms from them. It made sense when she thought about how he'd handled combat with the pirates. Maybe this was what he'd meant when he'd turned her down…

"No problem, Jarrus. I was just coming to double check the jump coordinates…Y9 is…a little unreliable…from time to time." As she spoke, she could see the distraction in his eyes. "Are you okay?" Something was weighing heavily on his mind, and it was something he didn't seem to want to share.

"Yeah. It was just a…just a bad dream. Bunch of banthashit." He ran a hand through his loose hair, looked away a moment, then brought his gaze back to her. "I'll leave you to it."

"Kanan…if you-"

He backed away, cutting her off. "I'm all good. I'll let you get to work with Y9."

And he was gone.

* * *

"So, Skiff, finish that story you was tellin' us at breakfast." Axel called across the crowded cargo bay as he took a seat and grabbed an Ebla and a meal bar. They'd been loading the bay since breakfast and it was time for a break.

It seemed as if the work on the freighter was never over. After lunch, they were slated to pack more cargo in for their trip to Ylix; they'd just loaded medical supplies, and later they would pick up a shipment of replacement parts for agricultural equipment. Captain Jax was resolved that they make this trip worth it and fill the _Neon_ as full of cargo as possible so as to maximize profits, so they'd be crammed to the gills for this trip. He smiled at the thought of the payoff.

The older, heavily muscled man put down the crate he was moving and headed in the direction where a few of the crew were gathering. "Guess it is 'bout time for a break." He grunted as he sat and opened a beer.

Even Jarrus made his way over to lean against the nearby bulkhead, eyebrow raised as Skiff delved back into the story.

"So anyways, like I was sayin'...this guy I served with on the _Erebus_ claimed to have discovered a Jedi Temple…and he said it was haunted."

"That's some serious banthashit, Skiff." The men muttered to each other as their friend picked up the thread of the story from breakfast.

"Well, I don't know, but I never seen the guy go pale like he did when tellin' the story. Looked like a sheet of flimsiplast." Skiff began to summarize the part he'd told at breakfast for Teryk, who'd been absent. "Claimed he was salvaging on Lacen, and you know that whole planet is unstable. Supposedly this dwarfnut was looking for some scrap and the ground just opened up and he fell in. Said he landed in this dark cave...wandered around for a while. He swore he found the bodies of Jedi and a temple."

"What the frack?" Teryk, the youngest of the crew, looked on with wide eyes. "How many? Were they all just piled up?"

"He said he found three bodies; two adults and a kid. He knew they were Jedi because one of 'em had one of them laser swords in his hand."

"Wizard…He took it, right?" Teryk was transfixed. "On the black market those are worth…a crazy amount of credits."

Skiff chuckled, shook his head and took a long pull of his beer. He caught a crosswise look from Jarrus, who then abruptly turned up his own beer and downed it all. "He thought about it, but when he went to take it, he swore he heard a scraping sound behind him. He turned and there was a masked person behind him, holding a yellow lightsaber. Just staring at him. I shit you not."

"Wait, now. You saying there was a Jedi still in there?" One of the men shook his head.

"I'm not sayin' nothin. I'm just telling you the story as I heard it. Gimme another beer, Teryk." The kid passed over a bottle. Skiff popped the cap and took another long pull. "The…person…whatever it was supposedly reached out and touched him and he said he didn't wake up until his buddies found him, lying on the rocks above. Whatever it was moved him out of there...and the cave had closed up. It was gone." He slid his eyes over to Jarrus, who was staring at something on the other side of the cargo bay, a hard look on his face.

"Well, I wouldn't feel sorry for no Jedi. They were traitors, karking bastards." Teryk muttered.

"You shut your kriffin' mouth, kid. You are too young to know shit about that." Skiff retorted. With another glance in Jarrus's direction, he frowned. "The Jedi weren't ever bad. Don't swallow everything the Empire says." Teryk blushed, a sure sign that he had just been talking out of his ass, Skiff thought. "I seen 'em myself once. Jedi agricultural corps. They saved my planet from a blight that hit all the crops. Seen a few of 'em fight in holos from the war. Whatever happened to 'em, they sure as hell didn't deserve it."

"Eh, who knows." Axel said, shrugging. "Ain't no way to help 'em now, anyway." The story seemed to be at an end, and the men hauled themselves up and began working again as Teryk cleaned up, tossing the empty bottles in the recycler.

Skiff angled toward where Jarrus stared across the cargo bay. "Meet any Jedi before…the Empire?"

Jarrus shrugged. "Yeah. A few."

By the look on his face, Skiff could tell it was a tender subject. "Son-of-a-bantha's like Teryk don't know what the universe lost. It's a karkin' shame." Jarrus still said nothing, so Skiff changed the subject. "Still on for the class, tomorrow Jarrus?"

"Sure you can handle another lesson like yesterday's, old man?" Jarrus raised an eyebrow and shifted against the wall he was holding up.

"Bet your ass, I can." They both laughed a moment, then Skiff made his way back to one of the loaders.

Kanan's eyes drifted back to what he'd seen during the old man's story.

The kid was still there.

He knew no one else could see the kid, dressed in a white tunic, over which were brown Jedi robes. Caleb Dume was taller this time, brown hair pulled back in a nerf tail, Padawan braid hanging down behind the left ear. He could even see the different beads and Chalactan silken threads woven into the long braid by his Master. Each one represented a milestone that a Padawan achieved along the Jedi path. For each of them, he could still remember the warmth of his Master's laughter and the pride in her voice as her deft fingers wove them into his brown hair.

Kanan's heart clenched at the memory, which felt like a black hole in his heart. The first time he'd seen the kid, Kanan had been young enough to feel like he was looking in a mirror. A mirror that showed a future that could never be. An echo of the past.

The blue-green eyes still regarded him from across the bay. They held a serious, slightly sad expression.

Was it an omen, or just a remainder of a past that had died a long time ago? He had no idea what the vision wanted, just that it kept appearing, each time he stopped somewhere long enough to feel comfortable.

Gritting his teeth, Kanan practically bolted from the cargo bay and into the fresh air, suddenly needing to escape the figure the only way he knew how. If there was one thing Kanan Jarrus had learned to do well, it was run from his past.

* * *

It was long after dark when Kanan returned to the ship's ramp. He keyed the code and leaned on the side of the ship while the ramp opened. Then, on unsteady legs, he staggered his way up the platform, which closed automatically once he was in.

He tripped over a box and ended up on the floor. Maybe it was best just to sit here until the world decided to slow its spinning, he thought. He pulled himself up against the box and let out a sigh. It was better like this. Drunk, he could think without feeling, which was better when the past got too close. He'd half thought the _Neon_ might be gone… he hadn't told anyone where he was going, but the ship was still in its berth when he got back from the bar.

It was time to go. He'd done what he'd contracted with Phoenix to do, the younger members of the group were becoming pretty good shots with a blaster rifle and they'd all increased their hand-to-hand fighting skills under Kanan's tutelage. He was starting to feel a sense of attachment to them and that coupled with the vision he'd seen meant it was time to go.

"Well, looks like someone had a good time tonight," he heard Phoenix's boots on the decking and he smiled ruefully.

"Somebody had to do it," Kanan snorted, then leaned his head back against the box, watching the world sway.

She stepped around the box and sat herself down on the floor across from him.

Something must have shown in his eyes because she reached out and put a hand on his boot.

"What is it?" She looked up at him, eyes soft in the darkened cargo bay. He shook his head, looking away.

She'd watched him this month head out several times when they'd been in port. He'd always come back staggeringly drunk, like he was at the moment. His eyes had a trapped look about them, leading her to wonder what he was running from. "Is it trouble with the authorities? Because I don't care about that. I know some people who can get a new identity for you."

He shook his head.

She frowned. Something was really wrong. She stood up, reaching a hand down to help him to his feet. "Come on. I'll help you make it back to your room."

"I've slept in worse places. I'm fine, here."

"Sure, you are." She slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled him, with difficulty, to his feet. They walked back to his quarters without comment. He opened the door and she edged him in. She gently deposited him on the bed and he pulled himself onto it before he falling over into a laying position.

"Let me help you," she offered once more.

The look on his face showed that she probably was about to be the focus of some sarcastic comment, but then he laughed instead. "I think the time for that has passed." His peculiar greenish-blue eyes were empty. "Don't take it personally though. This is…" he paused, trying to think of what he wanted to say through the haze of alcohol in his brain. "This is one of those situations where it's not you, it's me. I've got to move along."

"Kanan…no offense, but that's banthashit. This past month, you've become a part of my crew. You have a home on the _Neon_ if you want it. No strings. You saved my ship, and me, and I owe you, you laserbrain."

"I appreciate it." His eyes drifted closed. "You'll never know how much, Phoenix, but I gotta go. It's…" He trailed off, and she sensed he'd passed out.

"We'll talk more in the morning," she said softly. She waited a few moments, then left, shaking her head. She would convince him when he had sobered up in the morning.

* * *

Kanan awoke three hours before dawn. Packing was a matter of throwing his two changes of clothes into his bag, making his bed and heading out. He stopped only to place a note for Phoenix on the folding table.

When Kanan entered the corridor, he saw the echo of himself again, at the end of the hallway, watching him. This time Caleb was older, very much so, but still a Padawan. And that was all he'd ever be. "What do you want from me?" Kanan whispered. "I'm not a Jedi anymore. That path is…lost to me."

The Jedi version of himself simply looked at him with sadness reflected in his eyes. They stared at each other for long moments, then Kanan turned away. After a time, the vision faded from the hallway in silence.

* * *

"One ticket to the furthest planet from here."

The Rodian looked over the tall human in front of her. He was dressed in green and wore various pieces of armor in a shade darker than his sweater. He looked a little cranky, like most travelers, but he had kind eyes, when one took the moment to look. "Let me see. That would be Gorse? Will that do?"

"Yeah. Sounds perfect." Kanan slid the credits under the plastisteel window in front of him.

"Reason for trip?"

"Looking for work." Kanan murmured. "And a change of scenery."

The Rodian nodded, sliding the ticket to him. "You'll be looking for bay 24DZ, to your left. Good luck, Citizen."

"Thanks. I'm sure I'll need it." Kanan murmured, taking the ticket and heading down the terminal in the direction of the bay. The Rodian watched him move through the terminal, able to keep him in sight for a lot longer than she normally would have because of the absence of crowds at this hour. You always met interesting travelers on the night shift. The blue alien idly wondered where the teal-eyed human had come from and what he was headed for on the mining planet but became distracted when two moisture farmers with their entire brood of children came to purchase third-class tickets to Tatooine. By the time she was able to glance back up, the handsome traveler had vanished into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi, all. I know it's been a while. I have been fighting some mean writer's block lately, but I hope that I have beaten it and this is turning out nicely. I am working on the next chapter of "Broken" but it's slow going. And I haven't forgotten about Caleb and Phae...don't worry.
> 
> I'd love to know if you enjoyed this! Have a great week and maybe I'll have another update this week...you never know!

2

The transport broke down half-way to Gorse and was forced to make an emergency landing on Tenua. Tenua was the perfect place for a drunken bender, and Kanan Jarrus had nothing but time. The major city, Belestra, was polluted, overcrowded and dangerous. It was big enough that he wouldn't attract any attention…he'd be just a nameless face in a crowd. Just my type of place, he thought with a smirk as he entered the nameless little bar attached to the starport and waited on the replacement transport.

A few hours later, he realized he had missed his flight because it was too loud to hear the announcement and he was too far away to see his flight come up on the screen near the bar. A fight that had broken out between a human and an Aqualish; the brawlers had moved Kanan's way and he'd had to jump in. He'd taken the human down by slipping his arm around the man's neck and choking him out. Then, the mauler had fallen in a heap and the bouncer had dragged him out with a salute in Kanan's direction.

When things calmed down, he moved up to the bar and took an empty seat near the end so he could keep his eyes on the flight screen and choose a new destination. He got no feelings in the Force about any of the flights, so he kept drinking and waiting. By the time the bartender made her way down, Kanan had realized that there weren't any more flights out that night except to the Inner Rim, a destination that was most certainly not on his list.

"I thought things were gonna get a little hairy there for you for a minute." The bartender, a heavily-built woman with short hair said. She had beefy arms, wearing a tank top with gold lightning bolts down the side over a pair of black pants and gold boots. The short cut side of her dark, cherry-red hair was colored gold to match her eyeshadow.

"Yeah, me too. Good reason to celebrate." Kanan tapped the empty glass he'd brought over.

"I just got on shift. Looks like you're drinking a 'Fission'?"

"Yep." Kanan didn't argue. Usually they would serve him a few Nuclear Fissions or Reactor Cores before he got so shitfaced he couldn't talk. He knew he'd had three already, but she didn't know that and didn't have to, he thought with a smirk. He was holding his shit together well, tonight.

"M'Kay. You know three's the limit on these, right?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't like people dyin' in my bar. Got a name, stranger?"

"Kanan, ma'am."

"Well, I'm Mona. Nice to meet someone with some manners." Kanan could tell that Mona had been behind the bar a long time. She was lazily mixing the drink while talking to him, rarely looking down. "That's an interesting accent you're toting around, honey. First, you'd think Outer Rim, but there's something else under there. A layer of Inner Rim. Was one of your folks from Coruscant or something?"

If sober, Kanan would have been a little unnerved by her perceptiveness, but as he was, he was already too drunk to worry about it. "Nah, just done a lot of traveling, I guess," he smirked.

She used a shaker tin to mix, then handed him the noxiously strong drink and winked at him. "Oh, you're a cutie. Where's your girlfriend?"

Kanan snorted. "Flying solo. No attachments." The alcohol didn't burn this time as it went down.

"Mmm-hmm." She glanced him up and down. "You're obviously a player." Glancing down the bar she saw a few Imperial troopers enter and come over to speak with her. "Lemme go check on these guys. I'll be back."

She was gone a while. By the time she came back, Kanan was almost done with his "second" fission (his fourth, in reality).

"Karking Empire." She muttered, watching as troopers made their way around the bar, questioning the drinkers. Apparently, they were searching for someone. "You sure you want another?" The woman asked, leaning forward on her sturdy forearms to study him.

"If you're making it, I'm buying." Kanan said.

She mixed it, all the while following the stormtroopers with her eyes. They grabbed a Rodian server as she came up to draw an Ebla.

"Is this the one?"

"Yeah…Qelsee Tryo, you're under arrest for crimes against the Empire."

"That's…not my name! No!" The Rodian struggled in their grip.

"Hey! That's my server. Let go of her." Ruby came forward and narrowed her eyes at the soldiers.

"Back up citizen; this creature is under arrest for crimes against the Empire."

"Look. Her name's Jerlise and she's worked for me for five years. You have made a mistake." Mona grabbed his arm.

"Call for the transport. Let's just take both of them in." The stormtrooper grabbed Mona as well.

"Excuse me." A hand tapped him on the shoulder. As the trooper's head turned, the hand made a strange gesture. "I believe you have made a mistake."

"We've made a mistake," the trooper said, turning to face the Jedi.

"Let them go and move on," Kanan said, narrowing his eyes.

The trooper let go of Mona's arm, then turned to his associate. "We've made a mistake. Come on."

"Huh?" The trooper sounded confused.

"You heard me, Cinch. Move out."

The two troopers left as Mona and her employee turned to gape at Kanan.

"What? I can be very persuasive." Kanan shrugged and moved back to his seat. He'd had to use the Force to approach and mind trick them. He found his way back on the stool, then began drinking again as if nothing had happened.

Mona said a few things to Qelsee and the Rodian disappeared into the back of the bar. Then Mona came back to Kanan and leaned in. "Look, she's got a child that the Empire's after for some karked up reason or another." Mona said in a soft voice. "I've made a couple of connections and they'll be gone after tomorrow."

"Makes no difference to me," Kanan said, looking down into his drink.

"Thank you. I don't know how you did that…but thank you." Mona murmured, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Kanan shook his head, but grinned. "Don't know what you're talking about, but I'm getting a little low here." He rattled the ice in his his half-empty drink.

"Okay." She shrugged in return. "Keep your secrets. Let's get you fixed up with one more."

Kanan emptied his glass in two giant pulls and that was the last thing he remembered as the world turned into a fuzzy smear of colors.

* * *

The hero at the bar had begun to unravel.

Mona first noticed it later in the night when she saw him staring into the nearby corner, at the Dejarik table. She looked, but there was no one there. By this time, the bar crowd had begun to thin out, so it was quieter and Mona could hear him talking to himself. He might have been muttering "Go away," but she couldn't be sure.

"You okay?" Mona came and put a hand on his forearm.

He had cast his gaze downward at her hand, then looked up. His pupils were huge, making his greenish-blue eyes seem black. His voice had slurred as his head fell to watch his fingers draw patterns in the condensation from his glass on the bar. "He's gone."

"Who?"

"The kid, Caleb." He looked up at her and grabbed her hand. "Lemme ask you; how can a dead kid follow you around?"

The hair stood up on her arms at Kanan's mutterings. When he'd hit his limit for Fissions, he'd switched to Coruscanti whiskey, but it was obvious he'd had way too much. "Honey. Let me get you some caf." Mona had owned the bar for ten years and took care of her customers. When someone had been overserved by accident, she usually tried to get them to hang around and sober up a bit before she put them out on the street. And after what Kanan had done for them, she wouldn't be putting him out on the street like this. She put a hand on his arm and squeezed, before letting him go and moving to the caf machine.

He was mumbling behind her, then she thought she heard him say something about the Empire murdering someone.

She felt her stomach do a flip as she turned and set down a cup of caf in front of him. She leaned in and said in a low voice, "That's probably true, sweetheart, but it won't do you much good to say it out loud."

"Yeah, I know."

Kanan sat for a while, sipping the caf with his head down and eyes half closed. He mumbled to himself the whole time, first looking into his cup, then glancing at the Dejarik table again. Then he stood up and yelled, "Stop following me, kid."

Mona felt her stomach clench. Her hero was crazy or—"Kanan-how many Fissions did you drink?"

"Five, six…no…eight?" He had settled back down again and turned the mug up, draining the cup like it was a shot of liquor.

"Kriff," she breathed. He was hallucinating from that noxious mix of poison. Fissions did weird things to people. She glanced at Mix, one of the dishwashers who was sweeping the floor. "Hey, watch things here for me a minute?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, coming behind the bar.

She helped Kanan off of the bar chair, while grabbing his duffel bag. "Hey, come on. You need to lie down, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." He looked over his shoulder at the Dejarik table again. "I just wanna be left alone. Is that too much to ask?" When he turned his head back to her, his blue-green eyes were plaintive.

"I've got a safe, quiet place for you to lie down until you feel better. Come on." She tugged on his arm.

She helped him down the stairs to the basement without taking a tumble. There was a bed, really only a cot, where she let certain patrons sleep it off. Occasionally, she'd let someone like Qelsee and her daughter hide down here from the Empire. She supposed that the Rodian wouldn't mind having the company of the man who saved her and her daughter. She helped him sit down, and he immediately fell over onto the pillows, but he was watching her with those dark eyes that now appeared a luminous green in the dark. Then he looked to the mother and child, coming out from their hiding place behind some kegs.

"The Force is strong in her," he murmured, with such a strange note in his voice that Mona looked over to Qelsee and her child Rlesn. Qelsee shrugged and Rlesn hid behind her mother, obviously scared.

"Rest, Kanan," she said to him, putting a hand on his chest to keep him lying down.

"Go ahead and hide in the safe room." Mona told them. "I'll come get you when your ride arrives." She'd set up transportation through a mysterious Outer Rim contact. The name had come from one of her regulars: Fulcrum. Apparently, the shadowy figure was someone with some connections who didn't mind kriffing up the Empire's plans. Once she'd sent the message, Fulcrum had arranged transportation for the two to a new location. Mona was supposed to watch for a green Twi'lek pilot to arrive sometime in the next two days, and then send the mother and daughter with her. If the troopers came back looking for Kanan, she'd send him with the pilot as well. Troubled as he seemed to be, he had helped her and she wouldn't forget that.

Laying his bag on the floor next to him, she pulled off both of his boots and lifted his feet up on the bed. "I'm going to leave a bucket by the bed in case you get sick, okay?"

"Mmm hmm," he mumbled, his eyes finally drifting closed.

She covered him with a blanket. "I'll come back and check on you when I get this place closed up."

* * *

"Hey, hey….it's okay…"

There was a cool cloth on his head, but he still felt like he was burning up. Maybe it was the Dantari flu again? He'd had it as a youngling in the temple and could still remember feeling the "Force Healers" applying the Force to ease the nausea and headache. But this was different. Much, much worse. The world was spinning around him and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I think I'm gonna…" He felt his stomach lurch, and he sat up immediately. Just in time, his bedside companion placed a bucket in his hands. He threw up and retched until there was nothing left in his stomach and fell back as the bucket was taken away. The taste in his mouth was foul and horrible, but it wasn't the first time he'd been sick with a hangover and it wouldn't be the last. This one was just going to be one of the worst. A hangover for all time.

He glanced up as Mona, the bartender from last night, held out a glass of water. "Here. Those Fissions can be nasty at three or four. You had more than five, you laserbrain. You're lucky to still be breathing."

"Don't feel lucky." He sipped several times slowly, then fell back on the pillow. "Why didn't you just shoot me?" he groaned.

"I thought I was going to have to," she smiled sadly. "Swallow a few of these." She handed him several capsules, which he dry-swallowed without even looking at them, ignoring the glass she held out.

"What did I do?" He asked with a heavy sigh, finally looking into her eyes. The older, stout woman had washed the gold makeup off of her face and was now wearing a black tank and sleep pants. She wasn't unattractive, and had probably been a looker when she was younger, but now the lines of age had gently etched her features. He could feel her gentle goodness through the Force.

"We can get to that in a bit. Rest for a while, okay? You're safe here."

He puzzled over her words, he fell back asleep.

* * *

The second time he awoke, he felt a little better. He guessed he was in some sort of basement apartment. He sat up with a groan, putting his head in his hands for a moment before looking around the room. He was sitting on a small bed in the corner. There were boxes of liquor to the right and silver kegs, and a row of stairs leading above.

He saw legs on the stairs and Mona came into view as she descended, carrying two thermal cups. "Well, you're still alive. That's something. Least I don't have to hide the body now," she chuckled.

"Yeah." He smoothed his hair down and checked his clothes. Then he thought of his lightsaber. "Uh…You didn't happen to see me with a bag?"

"It's under the bed right there." Mona gestured.

He heaved a sigh of relief, looking inside to find the holocron and his lightsaber untouched.

"Here's caf. When you're up to it, you can come upstairs, and I'll get the chef to cook up something for you."

Kanan shook his head. "No, I've been enough trouble. I might not eat again, ever." His stomach felt bruised and the thought of food hurt.

She laughed gently, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening, then she grew serious as she pulled up a shipping crate and sat on it. "Are you okay, kid? If you don't mind me sayin', I don't think you are." She took a sip of her caf and waited for an answer, rolling the cup between her palms.

Kanan didn't know what to say. He ran a hand through his hair and then clenched his fist, the ghost of Kasmir's words in his head about his old tell. He made himself meet her eyes as he took a sip of the strong, black caf. "How much damage did I cause? I've got credits…"

"Damage?" She shook her head. "You didn't cause any damage, honey, unless you're counting the damage done to yourself."

"I'll be fine."

"Who's Caleb?"

He visibly stiffened. "I don't know," he lied, reaching up to his hair, then bringing his hand back to the cup and clenching his fist around it.

"Hm," she nodded, thinking a moment. "Look. If this is trouble with the Empire, you don't need to worry. I'm not going to turn you in."

"What makes you think I have trouble with the Empire?"

"Uh, honey. You weren't exactly singing the praises of the Emperor last night. You kept saying that the Emperor killed someone named Caleb, and some other stuff I couldn't really make out. You were really broken up about it."

He narrowed his eyes at her, staring so deeply that she began to feel uncomfortable. It was as if she could feel him probing at her mind with his gaze. She shifted on the crate and glanced down at her cup. Surely, she hadn't misjudged this guy. He wasn't dangerous, was he?

Kanan seemed to realize he was making her nervous, so he broke his gaze and took a sip from the caf cup. "Mona, right?"

She nodded.

"There's not much I can say. I'm not sure I'm worth it, but I appreciate…you helping me out." He stayed focused on his hands, looking down into his cup.

She weighed his words for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough." She stood. "Come upstairs when you're ready and I'll get the cook to make you something." She gestured, "The 'fresher is over there."

"Thanks," he said, taking another sip as she went up the stairs. A shower sounded like a good idea.

* * *

The drifter came up the stairs looking a bit better. He had changed his clothes and had his hair tied back. He'd also neatened the scruff on his face. But his eyes were the same. Sad. Mona couldn't help it; she thought of Davin. Her 22-year-old brown-haired, green-eyed son had been shot by stormtroopers for trying to protect an old lady being beaten in the city square. The drifter reminded her of Davin, and she couldn't help wanting to do something for him. Davin was the reason she'd begun helping certain people by getting them away from the Empire.

Kanan walked over to where Mona was sitting in a booth with a datapad, going over the alcohol orders for the next week. "Take a seat, kid," she said.

"Don't call me kid." Kanan said with a smile.

"Are you younger than me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Is that a trick question?" Kanan said, sliding into the seat.

"Younger than me, means I can call you kid. Cheno!"

A short, dark haired man came out from the back. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Can you make this 'kid' some eggs…toasted bread, caf? The usual?"

"You bet, Mona." The young man snapped off a salute and disappeared.

"Really, you've gone above and beyond." Kanan said. He looked around and saw that there were a few people sitting in booths, eating breakfast. The place must be more of a restaurant earlier in the day before they shifted to a bar at night.

"You saved me and Qelsee from those troopers. I don't think I've paid you back yet for that."

He looked up at her without speaking.

"My bartender quit today, and I need someone to fill in. Ever done bartending work before?"

Kanan nodded. "Once or twice."

"Will you stay a night or two?" She asked.

Kanan looked away, reluctant to accept, but found himself slowly nodding. "I can stay tonight. Then I have to be on my way." He couldn't afford to stay in one place, on one planet too long. This woman, trustworthy though she seemed, would only be in danger the longer he stayed.

She sighed. "Thank you, Kanan…" She trailed off when she realized she didn't know his last name.

"Jarrus. Kanan Jarrus." He extended his hand.

"Good. I'm Mona Brandle."

* * *

Mona found him toward the end of the night, when the crowds had begun to thin out.

"You did a good job tonight. I could use someone like you…on a permanent basis," she said. "You definitely know your way around a bar."

He smiled ruefully. "I can't stay, Mona." In his peripheral vision, he caught the flash of Jedi brown robes. He pointedly ignored the blue-green stare examining him with all the patience of a Jedi Master.

She nodded as if that had been the answer she expected and placed a handful of credits in his hand. "Here."

He was surprised. "I can't take it. I'm doing this as a favor because you…"

"Take it, kid, and karking shut up about it." Mona had said, closing his hand over it. "My son isn't here anymore to spend it, so take it."

Kanan had realized what she was trying to say as he looked into her eyes; he felt her sense of loss through the Force. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be kriffin' sorry. Just take care of yourself, Kanan Jarrus." She had stepped past him, but she paused, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Lay off the Fissions, kid."

He nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

He continued washing glasses in the small sink behind the bar. There were only three or four people left in the whole bar, when a cloaked figure entered. The figure had gloves on, and moved across the room with her hips swaying slightly. The person under the hood was undoubtedly a female; Kanan had bedded his share of women enough to know.

She sat down to his left and he made his way over, drying his hands on a bar towel. "What can I get you?" He asked.

"Do you have any caf this late?" The voice that came out of the hood was soft and velvety, and Kanan found himself so drawn to it that he actually stood there staring at the green eyes he could barely discern within the shadows of the hood. After a few moments, the owner of the voice said, "Is…is that a yes, or a no?" Her pink lips quirked to one side as she removed her hood, revealing her beautiful green skin and long graceful lekku.

Kanan's mouth had gone dry. "I…I um…just made a new pot," he managed. He turned and told himself to pull it together as he poured her a cup.

He placed it in front of her, and she took it in her gloved hands and took a careful sip. "Mmm." she said. "It's nice to find a good cup of caf in the 'Rim. I'd pretty much given up my search."

He didn't know what to say to that. He was usually pretty smooth with women of all species, but that skill had apparently deserted him for the moment, so he wisely just nodded and wiped the bar with the towel he'd thrown over his shoulder. A Jedi saying of his Master's came back to him, "Better to remain silent and to be thought a fool rather than open one's mouth and remove all doubt." It was then he realized what had captivated him so much; her voice was similar to his Master's, and the confident way she carried herself was reminiscent of Depa as well. All of a sudden, Kanan felt a swift ache in his heart for his Jedi Master, and he glanced down at his hand, polishing the durasteel bar with the towel.

It must have caused his face to change expression because it made the Twi'lek lean in and place a hand on his arm. "You okay, there?"

He nodded. "Sorry. Been a long night." Her hand slipped from his arm and she took another sip as she nodded.

"The same for me. I'm here to see the owner of this place. I believe her name is Mona? She wouldn't be around, would she?"

"Yeah. She's in the back. I'll get her for you."

"Thanks."

Kanan ducked into the kitchen where he found Mona talking with Cheno, who had been kind enough to work a double when their other cook had called in.

"Mona? There's a woman here to see you." Kanan said. "She's at the bar."

"Ok. Ask her to wait a minute."

Kanan nodded and headed back out front. "She's on her way," he told the Twi'lek, who he now noticed was wearing a brown and orange flightsuit. "Hey-you a pilot?"

She nodded. "I have a freighter."

"Nice. What kind?"

She smiled at him. "It's…a YT-1300. Why?"

"I like ships." Kanan said with a grin. "I do a lot of traveling. I've crewed on several different kinds…an HWK 290 and a couple of the YT's. I used to own a small one a while back."

Mona had appeared, and she placed a hand on Kanan's shoulder. "Thanks. Give us a minute, okay?"

"Sure." Kanan made his way back to the other end of the bar, but couldn't seem to tear his attention away from the green Twi'lek and Mona, who had leaned in and were talking too quietly to be heard by most people. A Jedi, however, had no problem hearing their soft words.

"You have them?" The Twi'lek leaned in intently.

"I…I do. A woman and a child. The child is older, so neither of them will be any trouble. They'll be safe?"

The Twi'lek nodded. "I will get them where they need to go."

Kanan was still trying to figure it out when he felt a sweep of cold. He looked up, expecting to see the door open, allowing in a draft, but there was nothing. He was still trying to figure out what the Force was trying to tell him, but he couldn't seem to get his mind wrapped around it—he was too distracted and his senses were frazzled from the previous night's drinking.

"I'll be right back." Mona passed Kanan on her way downstairs.

Kanan nodded slowly. He poured the Twi'lek another cup of 'caf and was just replacing the carafe when he felt the hairs on his neck begin to stand up. Two stormtroopers entered the bar. Behind them was a flow of the dark side that he didn't understand. Something was coming, and whatever it was, it was bad. **_Basement, now!_** The light was an alarm bell in his mind. He reached below the bar, using the Force to pull his duffel into his hand, then looked up at the Twi'lek at the bar.

"Do you trust me?" he asked. "We need to get out of here now." He nodded his head toward the stormtroopers.

She hesitated, and he started to use the Force to try to _push_ her to do it, but she was up and moving around the bar before he could, taking his offered hand and letting him lead her down the stairs into the basement.

Mona was helping the little girl on with her backpack when she saw Kanan and her eyes went wide.

"Stormtroopers…" Kanan hissed. "Is there another way out of here?"

"Yeah, come on." Mona went to the far wall, pressed a seam and a door swung open.

"Come with us." The Twi'lek said.

Mona shook her head. "I'll keep them from following you as long as I can. The shaft will lead out into the cargo area of the spaceport," Mona said.

The Twi'lek was drawing a blaster from the holster on her side. Kanan drew one from his own belt as well.

"Thank you." Qelsee said as she squeezed Mona's hand, then ushered her daughter into the tunnel.

"You bet." Mona said. "Now go." There was the sound of breaking from upstairs.

The Twi'lek took Mona's hand. "May the Force be with you," she murmured. Kanan's eyes went wide at the Jedi goodbye.

"And with you both." The Twi'lek replied. Kanan looked so stunned that Mona put a hand on his arm, then pushed them in the right direction. "Go, get them out of here, hero," she said with a smirk.

The door swung closed and they were in darkness until the Twi'lek cracked a glowrod. It lit the tunnel in an eerie blue-green. "Let's move it," Kanan said, ushering them forward in the dark. He brought up the rear, knowing that the danger behind them was greater than the danger in front of them. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

 


End file.
